


Willow Season One

by PleaseNo1985



Series: Willow [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseNo1985/pseuds/PleaseNo1985
Summary: Willow is feeling unfulfilled in her job, so she decides to do something about it. Illyria acts out. Andrew makes a discovery.
Relationships: Daniel "Oz" Osbourne/Illyria, Kennedy/Willow Rosenberg, Lorne | Krevlornswath/Andrew Wells
Series: Willow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800475
Kudos: 3





	Willow Season One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted work of fanfic. I intend this to be part of a series. I hope you like it.

It was a dark and staggeringly boring night in Cleveland, as most are. However, some teens were sneaking away from the boringness, as teens often do.  
“Are you sure we should go to the cemetery?” The boy was about 5’7, which is not an altogether bad height, or else short movie stars wouldn’t lie about it being their height. However, when combined with an abysmal fashion sense, a godawful haircut, and a supreme lack of confidence, it painted a severely underwhelming picture.  
“Come on. Making out inside a mausoleum is super hot.” Said the girl. Slightly taller than him, and dressed in full-on goth regalia, she was way out of his league.  
Far above, a redheaded woman floated. She was sitting in a position that she still to this day referred to as criss-cross applesauce, baffling all of her students, and dressed in a leather jacket and a long red skirt. This was Willow Rosenberg, the most powerful witch in the world.  
“So, Xander, why am I and a massive squad of slayers protecting this one weirdo?” Willow mentally intoned, from a mile away. She was quite proud of her telepathy network spell, as it had been hard to engineer. Given her power as a witch, she was only sent on the most important missions. She had tried to not let it go to her head, but the jury was still out on whether she was successful.  
“You’re not. That weirdo is a vampire, and the girl is a slayer who doesn’t know it yet.” Xander said, shoveling Swedish Fish into his mouth. He had found that the role of mission control suited him well. Staying out of the actual fight so that his fragile, non-magically enhanced body wouldn’t get hurt while still being an important part of the mission. He didn’t like it when Willow said it like that.  
“Really? He’s a vampire? He’s so… dorky. He reminds me of you at that age.”  
“Geek is chic. Also, hey.”  
“I’m just calling it like I see it.”  
“Well… she looks that alternate universe version of you.”  
“The vampire?”  
“Kinda walked into that one, didn’t I? Anyway, believe it or not, that is a very prominent and scary vampire. He uses his blendiness to his advantage. He’s already killed 10 people we know of, and he’s leading her into a big nest for a ritual feeding to summon the goddess somethingorother. Most of the vamps on the junior Hellmouth are here, and we can smoke em’ out tonight, provided we have our complete forces. You didn’t think we’d use this much power on a simple stake and shake, did you?”  
“Well, we do have the meeting.”  
“Which we put here so that we could also attack this ritual with full force. Is he in the mausoleum yet?”  
“Yeah, he just went in. You want to give the order? I’ll open up the telepathy.”  
“Hell yeah I do. Alright, slayers, go, go, go!”

The raid wasn’t particularly eventful. The Vampire and Demon Slaying Agency trained its agents well, and with the power and mass of the forces, the vampires were defeated in no time flat. But, the new streamlined method of slaying had its downsides.

“Alright, just review the footage and see who was slain, who escaped, and which of our girls were injured. This was a big raid, so attention to detail is important. I know its not fun, but we have to grease the machine.” Said the secretary. She was a meek girl, a watcher in training. Giles had told Willow that her father had died in the council explosion, so it was the least he could do to give her a job.  
“Sure is a greasy machine,” Willow said. She was working on the tape for a little bit, but couldn’t really get herself to focus on it. She decided to go over to Andrew’s office, right across from hers. He had led a mini-force to stop certain relics from reaching the ritual space, so he would have much less paperwork to deal with. She liked Andrew. He had become a lot less useless since the destruction of the Hellmouth, and she had the whole gay solidarity thing going on with him.  
“Hey, Andrew.” Willow said, opening the door.  
“Yeah, Willow?” Andrew flinched. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he saw Willow, he always saw Dark Willow. He had noticed an extra effort from her to be friendly to him, and he was trying.  
“How are you doing?” She said.  
“Oh, you know. Heart’s racing. Feeling the joy of doing good coursing through my veins.” He said, without a hint of sarcasm.  
“There were as many vamps as slayers. You were fine.” Willow said.  
“I’m fragile. I was the easy target.” He said.  
Willow paused thoughtfully, before asking, “Do you ever feel like it’s different now? Like, different from before we started the proactive approach, or before we even met the potentials? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we saved them. If we didn’t, I wouldn’t have met Kennedy. But, still, something’s missing.” This wasn’t the first time Willow had thought something like this, but it was the first time she’d voiced these concerns.  
“I think you’re kinda forgetting that I hadn’t been a member of the group for long before the potentials arrived. And, even then, I never really got the fire-forged friends, die for each other Scoobie comradery. I was kind of just pinata, except instead of candy I had info on the First.”  
“Wait, that’s it!” Willow exclaimed.  
“What, getting info on the First? Or candy?”  
“No, not that,” Willow said, “I feel like we just aren’t doing what we should. I know exactly what we should do! Just me, Giles, Buffy, and Xander should go on a cross country trip in a minivan to fight demons and vampires and stuff, like in the-the Scooby Do cartoons. We can get everyone back to being close. I haven’t seen Buffy in months, and I haven’t seen Giles in a good mood in way longer. Oh, um, sorry Andrew, I was just thinking out loud. You know, you would have fit in great in the Scoobies. But don’t let me waste our secretary’s time.”  
“Oh, it’s fine, I don’t think I have anything to do right now.” As if summoned by the gods of irony, Andrew’s pager beeped. “Looks like I spoke too soon. Heh.” Andrew glanced nervously out of the room. “I’ve got to go. See you at the meeting tomorrow?”  
Willow “Sure,” Willow said. She sighed, and walked back into her room. She took a deep breath, sat down, adjusted her posture, cracked her knuckles, put her fingers in what she used to call ‘prime typing position’, and then ran out the door.

Willow was a big fan of the courtyard. For a secret semi-government base (legally, they were contractors for whenever the U.S. needed help with supernatural matters), their courtyard was pretty good. Officially, it was a government-sponsored college, which it was, in a sense. Unofficially, it was the U.C. Sunnydale campus that Willow had teleported with the help of an ancient artifact in the basement after the campus mostly survived the cratering. She sat down next to the fountain and got a lot of weird looks. Everyone on the campus knew her because of course they did. Astral projecting to kill a god was kind of a big deal. Willow wished that didn’t get so much focus. She’d only killed one god, and so had Buffy. Loki wasn’t even really a god. More like a trickster spirit. Sometimes she liked the attention, but it was a double-edged sword when she wanted to think and breathe the air. Some people wouldn’t leave her alone.  
“Hey, Wil!” Her girlfriend said, with a slight skip in her step. “I just-wait.” She paused and darkened her expression. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah- um… why? Is it that obvious?” Willow said.  
“Maybe not to a layman. But I am an expert in Willowology,” Kennedy said. “So don’t bother hiding anything. I won’t take no for an answer.”  
“Sometimes I like to just be quiet,” Willow said, facing away from Kennedy.  
“Come on. Talking always helps.” Kennedy punched Willow in the arm.  
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” Willow said, noncommittally.  
“That is not a real answer. Tell me just what is going on in that cute little head of yours.”  
“Would you-” Willow said, taking a deep breath, “Would you be okay with me going away for a bit?”  
“Why?”  
“Just, would you?”  
“Depends how long. A few weeks, sure. A year, no.”  
Willow thought about it for a little bit. “A couple of months.”  
“Sounds rough. I could make it, though. I answered your question, now you have to answer mine. Why?” She poked Willow’s chest as she said this.  
“I’ve just been feeling like this isn’t what I want to be doing. The corporateness of it all. The battle forms!” Willow unleashed a little bit of her pent up stress in a stomp yell combo that drew some looks.  
“Willow. You’re a nerd. I thought you loved forms.”  
“Not these. They feel detached from the actual work we do. They feel like nonsense drudgery. And why do I have to do them?”  
“Well, I guess you could give it to a secretary. They probably won’t get the magic as well as you, but I’m sure they could manage.”  
“Oh.” Willow paused, before redoubling her efforts. “Still, its the principle of the thing. The scoobies need to get back to the basics. I was thinking of a monster fighting road trip with just me, Buffy, Xander, and Giles.”  
“Sounds like a pipe dream, Wil.”  
“Not exactly the response I was hoping for…”  
“I’m just being honest. Xander is a strategist and a military consultant on the supernatural. Giles is the headmaster of a high school that sponsors fighting, and who knows what the hell Buffy is up to.”  
“I guess…”  
“Think on it. Maybe take a nap, then get the girl to do your battle reports for you.”  
Willow thought for a moment, stood up, and said. “Thanks. I think I will take a nap.”  
“Don’t sleep for too long!” Kennedy said. “I think there’s a surprise that you’re going to like.”

Willow heard a knock on her door. While this was rather inconvenient, she had been prepared for this eventuality, because of what Kennedy said. She finished the spell and cleaned it up rather neatly. It could sometimes be messy, but she took special precautions. The knocking had gotten rather annoyed, but the person behind the door wasn’t quite at the yelling level. If they had been, Willow might have answered the door more quickly.  
“Hey, Wil,” Said Buffy Summers. “Long time no see.” Before Buffy could say anything else, Willow wrapped her up in a hug that felt more like predatory constriction than a gesture of affection. “I know you’re happy to see me,” she managed to get out, “but could you ease up on the death grip?”  
“Oh,” said Willow, with momentary self-awareness, “Sorry.” Willow sunk.  
“Don’t get all deflatey,” Buffy said, “I’m sure some of my archnemesies would have killed for an attack like that.” Willow got out of the archway, and let Buffy in. “So,” Buffy said, gesturing around her, “Tara’s room.”  
“Yeah,” Willow said, not making eye contact, hands in her pockets.  
“I like the redecorating. Very... sparse.” Buffy said awkwardly.  
“Someone from out of state came in when Tara moved into my room. When Sunnydale evacuated, she took all her stuff with her.”  
“I don’t have to use my psych 101 skills to tell you that this is unhealthy,” Buffy said.  
“This room has very strong magic. It helps my casting.”  
“What about the room that we had? That has to have as much magic. You cast just as many spells there.” Buffy was trying hard to keep the judgment from her face, but Willow spotted it.  
“Surprisingly, no. This has slightly more.”  
“Although, this has one big bed, while the other has two…” Buffy said, innuendo clear on her face. Willow just fiddled with her hands, and frowned. “Oh,” Buffy said. “Wanna talk about it?”  
“I don’t know. Do you even want to hear about my relationship drama? You have to have important stuff to do. Like preparing for the meeting tomorrow.”  
“Are you kidding? I love hearing about your relationship drama. And even if I did have important things, this is Willow time that I’ve set aside for Willow things.”  
“It’s just… I’ve been feeling myself drifting from her. I don’t know why. I don’t want to be. But it’s happening.”  
“Riley syndrome,” Buffy said, nodding.  
“What?”  
“Like me and Riley. Let me guess, she’s someone’s ‘one’, but not yours?”  
“You pretty much hit the nail on the head.”  
“I know you’re the magic guru, but I don’t think that soulmates exist. Angel was mine, until he wasn’t, and now he’s working for the other side. I tried to think Spike was mine, but he wasn’t. And Riley could have been mine, but he got away.”  
“Do you think Tara…”  
“No. God no. She was not your one chance at love. You are a very lovable person. But you can’t half-ass your relationship. You have to try.”  
“And if that doesn’t work?”  
“Then nothing will.”  
“Wow, that’s…”  
“Pretty good advice? Thanks. I’ve gotten better at it since the potentials days.”  
“We’ve done an extensive dive into my love life. What about yours?”  
“Non-existent. And that’s for the better.”  
“What about the Immortal?”  
“What about the Immortal?” Buffy responded back flatly.  
“Weren’t you guys dating, or something?”  
“That dork? Do you remember that spell Jonathan did?”  
“The one that made him the star of The Matrix and have invented the internet?”  
“Same deal.”  
“Really? He seemed legit.”  
“Even then, I was just using him.”  
“For what?”  
“Top secret. Does it look like I have the time to commit? My plan is, if I make it that far, to retire at the age of fifty, move to Denmark, and marry a 22-year-old poet.”  
“That sounds nice.”  
“Willow stop it,” Buffy said, batting her arm, “You’re gay. Remember?”  
“There can be 22-year-old female danish poets. Also, I think I’m actually bi.”  
“Huh. Neat. I was wondering where Oz fit in with all that. And John Cusack.”  
“Hey. He got me to see Being John Malkovitch, and I will always be grateful for that.”  
“I never knew you to be into that heady stuff.”  
“No. Gay Cameron Diaz and Katherine Keener.”  
“Ah.”  
“Also, it wasn’t that heady.”  
“There’s a scene where John Malkovitch is literally in his head, and everything is John Malkovitch. That is heady.”  
They sat in silence for a minute. They had long passed the point of comfortable silence in their friendship, but Willow still broadcast a little uncomfortably before she spoke up.  
“I was thinking about something.”  
“Yeah? What’s up?”  
“Do you want to go on a road trip?”  
Buffy burst out laughing, before pausing. “Wait. You’re serious?”  
“Yes. Just the scoobies. A back to basics kind of thing.”  
“Willow. You’re smart enough that I don’t have to point out the numerous ways that wouldn’t work.”  
“But can’t it work anyway? Screw the rules?”  
“We can’t just screw the rules anymore. We’re not just teens. We have responsibilities. A ton of them.”  
“But the good times can’t just be over, can they?”  
“Don’t go that far. The times are just different. Things change.”  
“I don’t want to believe that.”  
“Then you’re in for a rude awakening when they change again. Look, do you want to go out for dinner? I can get us a reservation somewhere fancy. Well, as fancy as exists in Cleveland.”  
“Sure. I’ve got to just give the secretary some stuff, and then we can be on our way.”  
“Okay,”  
“Oh, and I know you want some just Willow-Buffy time, but could I invite someone else? I’ve been getting closer with Andrew. He’s actually kind of a cool person, once you get to know him.”  
“Well, about that…”

“You fired Andrew?!” Willow yelled at Giles. “How could you?!”  
“WIllow?!” Giles yelled back in confusion, “Why are- wait, where-uh, when- uh, did you teleport- Buffy, did she teleport here?”  
“Maybe? That or she stormed here super fast.”  
“Your office is close enough to her room to create reasonable doubt.” Xander said, slightly more relaxed than the others.  
“Willow, I know you’re- floating? Oh, that’s bad. Willow, if you could just stop floating… Buffy, stop her from floating.” Giles stutttered out.  
“Let me repeat the question,” Willow said seething, and still floating, “How could you fire Andrew?”  
“Wil, I know he’s a good guy,” Xander said, “Hell, I probably had a better relationship with him than you did, but this seems like a very strange hill to die on.”  
“I don’t think it’s just about this,” Buffy said.  
“Will you please stop treating me like the enemy?!” WIllow yelled. “Don’t you dare.” Willow said to Giles, who was edging for the button to call security.  
“Sorry, but you are currently floating towards me VERY menacingly and I don’t have the gift of super magic on my side this time.” Giles said, trying to have more of a backbone.  
“Oh goddess,” Willow said, realizing what she was doing, and sitting down. “Is my forehead veiny?”  
“A little,” Buffy said.  
“But your hair is still fiery red,” Xander said, smirking but still shaken.  
“Willow, what was that about?” Giles asked, paternally.  
“Could you tell me why you fired Andrew? I promise I won’t blast you.” Willow quipped halfheartedly.  
“He alienated people he worked, namely new slayers, his paperwork was sloppy, and he kept making those stupid documentaries.” Giles said.  
“Those docs can’t have been too bad.” Willow said.  
“What if someone saw them?” Giles said. “We gave him a severance package. He’ll be fine.”  
“Wasn’t he one of our best demonologists?” Willow said.  
“Was, I’m afraid. Some of our junior watchers are already on his level. Except, that is, when it comes to demon summoning, which isn’t exactly a skill we need.” Giles said.  
“Hey, I was thinking about something…” Willow said.  
“Yeah, Wil?” Xander said.  
“I think I’m quitting.” She said.  
“Is this about Andrew?” Xander asked. “Because we can bring him back. He wasn’t that bad.”  
“Its not that,” Willow said. “I just haven’t been happy.” She got up, and walked out.

_________

A tall dark man in a leather jacket had just got up with what seemed like a Hollywood star on the rise in a dank, dive bar. He moved with unnatural grace, like a panther, or more likely a vampire. As he was taking the girl outside, another girl stood up from the bar. Her clothes were strange, tight leather, with strange patterns. However, the thing that really made her stand out in this bar was her blue streaked hair. When she grabbed the man by the shoulder he quickly became angry.  
“Hey, what’s the matter with you?!” He shouted.  
Her response was with stilted language and came across strangely. “I believe that you wish to harm this girl.”  
“What’s it to ya, d*ke?” His language didn’t cause much reaction in the crowd.  
“Does my presentation indicate homosexuality? I shall keep this in mind. However, as you are a vampire, I shall slay you.”  
“Oh, you’re a slayer, huh? No problem. I can take a slayer.” As he said this, his face shifted, gaining a defined brow and yellow eyes.  
“I believe that you could not. However, that is not a matter of importance, as I am something far worse.” She then raised her fist and struck the vampire with as much force as possible. Upon contact, the vampire turned to dust as if a stake had been pushed through its heart. This was a little too much for the bargoers to ignore, causing the woman to become exasperated.  
“Have none of you ever seen a vampire? This is Los Angeles. There are many.”

When Illyria returned to her home at the old Hyperion hotel, Lorne was finishing his performance for the night. Since the fall of Wolfram and Heart’s LA branch, Lorne had become a full-time entertainer, becoming quite skilled at piano and sad songs. He’d even taken to doing stand up style gigs for his more supernaturally inclined clients. He’d had trouble finding venues until he realized the Hyperion worked just fine. He wasn’t the most popular in LA, but he made a decent portion, and since he was in charge of the act, he got all of the money. He didn’t need to eat much but liked to have the materials for a sea breeze at all times. He’d also taken in Illyria, as she’d been lost since the alley battle. He was bitter about her killing Fred, but he knew that she’d developed immensely in the past year, and had even started to develop empathy. He also kept her because, since she had started killing demons, she was also taking their money. He knew that she wouldn’t spend it on much aside from video games and the occasional depressed bender, and so thought he’d charge it as rent. As Lorne’s audience slowly left after the show, Illyria went to Lorne.  
“I have killed several demons and one vampire today.” Illyria actually looked proud.  
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great, honey.” Lorne seemed dismissive, like he wasn’t really focusing on her.  
“I saved innocent lives, even though I gained no direct benefit.” Illyria was becoming irritated.  
“Listen, I gotta total up the money.” Lorne’s expression didn’t change.  
“I was a force for good tonight. You should be proud of me!” Illyria’s voice was shaky, like she was actually upset.  
“I’m pretty tired. Could we pick this up later?” Lorne said.  
“No. We will talk about this, and we will talk about it now. I am a powerful force for good. Why do you still hate me?” Illyria said.  
“Is that why you’re doing this? My sympathy? My forgiveness? You’re never gonna get it, blueberry. You killed Fred. And your wearing one of my friends around like a skinsuit certainly didn’t help with the others. All of my friends are either dead, missing, or living on a farm in Texas writing godawful love poetry to escape their feelings and avoid talking to their ex. And don’t think that you weren’t part of that. I will always hate you.” His words shocked Illyria.  
“We are the last remaining members of Angel Investigations. We should work together.” Illyria’s body language now almost conveyed vulnerability.  
“Angel Investigations? Really? You think you were a member of Angel Investigations? You were a member of Wolfram and Heart under Angel’s leadership. Not the same thing.” Lorne then pointed to a framed picture showing Wesley, Cordelia, Gunn, Fred, and Angel holding baby Connor. “This is Angel Investigations.” He said wistfully.  
Illyria was confused. “You’re not in this picture.”  
Lorne sighed. “I was holding the camera. Even I have no clue what that makes me. But I wasn’t in the inner circle. I wasn’t the guy they ribbed off of. I was the guy they went to with their problems. It’s like I was the HR guy. Angel Investigations was a family. It was a support system. You can’t force that.” Lorne took a deep breath. It was clear he’d gotten himself worked up. “Why do you want this? Why do you try to be good? You could get yourself an evil army pretty easily. You know, conquer up. You could rule the world. You saw where this path takes people. Death, or misery. Why do you want this?”  
“It’s what Wesley would have wanted,” Illyria said, flatly.  
“Wesley is dead. You don’t have to listen to him anymore, plumcakes.” Lorne seemed actually concerned about her.  
“I still wish to see him one day. By the nature of this world, it is likely that I will. And, when I see him again, I want him to know I have followed his rules.” Illyria sounded sad.  
“He’s still dead. Because of you,” Lorne said.  
An awkward silence came upon the room.  
“I wish to return to my room,” Illyria said.  
“Just go, Blue,” Lorne said.  
And so, Illyria did. She walked up the Hyperion stairs, and into her room. Winnifred Burkle’s old room. She sat on her bed awhile, motionless. That was one of the things people found offputting about her. She could be completely motionless. After lying motionless for a few minutes, she grabbed her wallet. She had planned to use her money to buy video games, but she knew that it had other purposes. She paused, and sighed. She then removed her armor for the first time since she had been wrapped in it months ago, and adopted an illusion to disguise the hide the blue splotches on her skin an eyes. She kept the hair, though. She walked towards the window and jumped. It was only as she was rapidly approaching the concrete that she remembered she would need pockets to hold the wallet. Then everything went black.

Illyria woke up, which was still a relatively foreign concept to her. Her body was capable of sleep, and she had tried it a few times, but she didn’t need it. This was rather different than the other times she had woken up, given that she was on a frayed and tattered towel, lightly bruised, and wearing some very tattered clothes.  
“You’re awake? After half an hour?” Said a woman next to Illyria. She was dirty and seemed to have set up a camp in the alley. “That can’t be good. Jumping from the third floor of an abandoned hotel usually works.”  
“For what?” Illyria asked, still gathering her wits.  
“Suicide, ya dummy. You may not be dead, but at least you’ve got brain damage.” She said, chuckling.  
“What is suicide?” Illyria asked, sitting up.  
“You must have more brain damage than I thought.” She chuckled again. “It’s killing yourself.” She said, educationally.  
“I was not attempting to kill myself,” Illyria said.  
“Then you must just be stupid. At least you’re lucky. Most other hobos would have stolen your wallet, and not given it back.” She said, smiling.  
“Why did you clothe me if you thought I was dead?” Illyria asked, feeling her old, smelly, ratty clothes.  
“It just didn’t seem right. I was going to start your funeral in a few minutes, but I didn’t know your name. I guessed Amy. Is that right?.” She said.  
“I don’t wish to tell you my name,” Illyria said.  
“That’s fine,” she said.  
“There was once a great battle here,” Illyria said, standing up.  
“Is that why… well…” She said, pointing to the destruction in the alley around her. The Hyperion had only gotten a chunk torn out of it, as opposed to the building on the other side, which had been mostly leveled. The ground had been shredded, torn, and burned.  
“I must go,” Illyria said suddenly.  
“Wait, don’t you want your wallet?” She said.  
“Yes, I do,” Illyria said, surprised by her forgetfulness.  
“Could I take a 20?” The homeless woman said.  
“You have been good to me. You are kind. You do not deserve this life. You may take 100 dollars.”  
The woman’s face lit up, and she was left speechless. Illyria smiled.

“Hello,” Illyria said to the cashier. It was a rather fancy place, but Illyria didn’t really realize that. She didn’t care. “I wish to purchase clothes.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” The cashier said. “But I’m willing to bet you can’t afford them.”  
“I can,” Illyria said.  
“How do you know you won’t just steal them? This is rather late to buy clothes.” He said.  
“I can pay in advance,” Illyria said, taking out 10 hundred dollar bills. There were a few fat cat demons on the street since the dissolution of Wolfram & Hart. “Will this suffice?”  
“Jesus!” He said, taken aback. “Did you- did you steal that?”  
“It is mine. It contains my identification.” She said, taking out her, or rather Winnifred Burkle’s, ID.  
“You look… different.” He said.  
“It has been a rough year.” This was the response Lorne had told her to use if an old acquaintance of Fred’s encountered her.  
“Okay. We’ve got plenty of selections to choose from. Do you want any help?” He said.  
Illyria briefly scanned her brain for all of the human style categories she was aware of, which admittedly weren’t much. “I want something… cool.”

While a leather jacket and pants admittedly weren’t that much of a change from what she had worn earlier, she figured it was a good start. Baby steps, as Lorne had said to her in the past. In a similar spirit, she decided it would be best to find a similar living situation.  
“Saturn Hotel, how may I help you?” The clerk said. He was fresh-faced but balding. He was legitimately cheering, not faux customer service cheery.  
“I wish to purchase a room,” Illyria said.  
“For the night?” He said.  
“I wish to own it.” She said.  
“I… um… we could rent it to you for a month. It would probably cost a lot.” He said.  
“Is that the longest length I can own it for?” She said, annoyed.  
“Well… at a time.” He was very clearly beguiled by Illyria.  
“Interesting.” She said. She was not interested.  
“Uh, what name should I put you down as?” He said.  
“Winnifred Burkle.” She said.  
“Wait!” She heard from behind her in the line, “Your name is Winnifred Burkle?” The man who said it was around Winifred Burkle’s age, short, with a fluffy fur coat, red hair and a beard. “Whew. I was starting to lose my steelly composure there. You’re going to need to trust that my composure is usually steelly. My name is Oz, and I was sent to talk to you by Willow Rosenberg.”  
“Ah. The witch.” Illyria said  
“She’s a lot more than that, but, yeah, she’s definitely a witch. I can see why she would like you.” Oz said, pointing at her jacket and hair, “Although, you do look different than the description I was given.”  
“It’s been a rough year,” Illyria said, shifting her voice and posture to something more Fred-like.  
“What are you two talking about?” Said the clerk, bewildered and slightly frightened.  
“Stop holding up the line!” Someone shouted from the line.  
“Get your room, and we’ll talk there,” Oz said. “I’d recommend getting it for the night, at least for now.”

The room was rather nice. Most hotels in L.A. are either great or awful, but this one was somewhere in between. Oz had made sure that they got a double room, and offered to pay for half. Illyria liked him. She couldn’t help it. He was reserved, but confident. Almost like Wesley. She had heard some things about Willow, namely the fact that there was an attempt to contact her to save Fred. While she was obviously grateful for that, she knew that Lorne resented her for it, saying that she could have stopped the ‘spiral of misery’ that began with Fred’s death. She also had Fred’s brief memories of meeting her, which were positive, but confusing for Fred.  
“I’ve got my van outside if you want to hear the entire business pitch, plus some very illuminating graphs and videos by an ‘Andrew Wells’,” Oz said.  
“I know him,” Illyria said, “I met him once.” She had to intercept herself to stop her from saying that Winnifred Burkle had met him. “What’s your offer?”  
“Have you ever seen Scooby-Doo?” Oz said.  
Fred had, so Illyria said, “I have,” and chuckled. Illyria figured the laugh was a nice touch.  
“It’s like that. Willow wants to travel around the country fighting evil. Hopefully, it will be real monsters, not old men stealing teenager’s lunch money.” Oz said.  
“That just seems like a silly idea coming from the most powerful witch in the world.” Illyria had respect for Willow, and the Scooby-Doo inspiration went against her rather loose understanding of her as a person.  
“If you don’t think Willow can be silly, you don’t know her. The silly’s the best part of the Willow. And I don’t know about ‘the most powerful witch in the world’. Seems a little hyperbolic.” Oz said, with a slight awkwardness that looked foreign on him.  
“Her reputation precedes her. That’s why I’m interested.” Illyria said.  
“Huh,” Oz said.  
“And where do you come in?” Illyria asked. She very rarely asked personal questions about others, but found herself genuinely interested in him.  
“I’m Willow’s ex-boyfriend, from before she went gay. I’m also a werewolf, so I can provide some extra muscle.” Oz said.  
“I met a werewolf once. She was dating Angel.” Illyria said.  
“Speaking of, where is the big lug? I’ve missed him.” Oz said, smirking.  
Illyria got a lump in her throat. She didn’t like it. “Finish your story first.”  
“Okay.” He said coyly. “I went away for a while to learn to control my wolfishness, and when I came back my girl was smooching another girl.”  
“Hadn’t you already broken up? Or am I following the story wrong?” Illyria asked, again with genuine interest.  
“Oh, we had. Rationality has nothing to do with this story.” Oz said, smiling. “So, I lost control and attacked Willow’s girlfriend. I was captured by the government, and taken in for testing. I got out, but I decided it would be best if I were to leave. I got better at controlling my power, moved to San Fransisco, and started a band ‘cause I had nothing better to do. Some years pass, and I get a phone call from Willow. She tells me to go to Wolfram and Hart, and recruit Angel’s people. I go to L.A. and find a Doublemeat Palace where Willow told me the building would be, and no one there had ever heard of Wolfram & Hart. I go to where I remember the old Angel Investigations office being, knowing no other place to go, and it’s burned to the ground. I then go to a hotel to sleep for the night, and I find one of the people I was looking for. Wild night.” He paused “So. I’ve shown you mine. You show me yours.”  
“I hadn’t remembered it before, but Cordelia told-” she paused slightly, again stopping herself from saying Fred, “me about you.”  
“I’ve always wondered what she thought of me. Her mind was a riddle.” Oz said deadpan. He saw the look of confusion on Illyria’s face and said, “That was sarcasm. Don’t worry, I don’t do it much.” He paused again, “That was also sarcastic.”  
“With your reliance on sarcasm, it seems difficult to carry a conversation with you.” She said.  
“I’ve been told that,” Oz said.  
“Cordelia is dead,” Illyria blurted out. She wasn’t the best with navigating human emotion anyway, so she figured she may as well get it over with. Oz’s face immediately changed, as did the entire feeling of the room. “Angel is, too. Wesley, as well.”  
“I-uh, Jesus.” Oz said. “You know, snark is usually my emotional defense mechanism, but I can’t seem to find any.”  
“That sounded snarky,” Illyria said, trying to comfort him.  
“Thanks. How’s the Irish guy?” Oz said.  
“Who?” Illyria said, confused.  
“Irish guy. About Cordy’s height. Gets visions from the ‘Powers that Be?’” Oz said.  
“Ah. Doyle. He died long before I joined. He gave his visions to Cordy.” She said.  
“You go away for 5 years, and suddenly everyone’s dead,” Oz said, leaning back.  
“It is a high-risk occupation,” Illyria said, trying to comfort.  
“The denial’s kicking in, so I figure I can get through anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance in my dreams. You interested in coming back with me? The van is surprisingly comfy, for an old stinky werewolf van.” He said.  
“Is the smell yours?” Illyria asked.  
“Maybe once upon a time. But it has evolved into something greater. I cannot claim ownership of it. So, are you coming?” He said.  
“Yes,” she said.  
“Are there any other members of Angel’s team that are still alive?” Oz.  
Illyria paused. She knew she could just disappear, and Lorne would never know what happened, and Oz would never know about Lorne. Lorne had been kind to her, though. Wesley would be upset at her if she didn’t at least ask him. “One. I’ll talk to him alone. We had a bit of a fight, so it might be better if I went there alone to make up.”  
“That’s why you’re in this hotel?” Oz said.  
“Yes.” She said.  
“Well, I’m going to bed. Good night.” He said, resting his head on the pillow.  
Illyria laid back on her pillow, and considered her next move. She wasn’t sure how Oz would react if she wasn’t there when she woke up from some of the romantic comedies Lorne had made her watch, and she was pretty sure that the television in the room didn’t have a video game console. Even if it did, it would likely wake Oz up, which Lorne had told her was inconsiderate. She had already been unconscious once that night, and she didn’t much care for it, though. She decided to write a note, and leave it on her bed.  
As she sat down to write the note, she struggled with remembering how to write. It had never been of much use to her as a demon lord. There were very few lasting messages that couldn’t be made by just killing one of her subjects. As she put the pen to the paper, she pressed a little too hard and snapped it in half, causing the ink to spray on the table and her face. She decided to grab another, and use less force. She still broke through the paper on her first few tries, but she eventually got it to work. She said she couldn’t sleep and had gone to meet Lorne. She noticed that the ink had seeped into the paper, but figured Oz wouldn’t mind.

Illyria walked into the Hyperion Hotel, and shouted, “Lorne! I wish to speak with you!” After a while, she noticed that she got no response. Finding this weird, she searched the room and found Lorne lying on the floor, snoring. She poked him. He shook, but didn’t wake. She did it again. And again. And again. Eventually, after she lost count, he woke up.  
“Woah, Fred, warn a guy before you-” he said, before coming into reality.  
“I wish to speak with you,” she said.  
“Yeah, I got that. What’s so important that you have to wake me up from my beauty sleep?” He said.  
“Willow’s ally Oz came and asked for us to join her,” she said.  
“Oh yeah,” he said groggily, “that bitch? What’s she recruiting for? The- oh god, I’m too hungover to think of a pun.”  
“No, she is not. She wants us to join her on a cross country trip to fight evil. Oz likened it to the myths of Scooby-Doo.” Illyria said.  
“What,” Lorne said flatly.  
“Tales of a group of teenagers and their talking dog-” She elaborated.  
“I know what you said. Why is it the myths? Scooby-Doo is not a ‘myth’. Its a cartoon. And some sucky movies. You have all of Fred’s memories. You know the difference between a myth and a kid’s show, right?”  
“There is not enough difference. Both are untrue tales told for amusement and morals.”  
“Whatever,” he said, getting up, moving to the bar he had installed, “It’s too early for me to deal with your nonsense. Time for some sweet hair of the dog.”  
“In my experience, I have not found dog hair very sweet,” Illyria said.  
“I really have to learn not to use metaphor around you, don’t I?” Lorne said.  
“It would be wise,” she said.  
“Although I guess I don’t have to if you’re going. You have my blessing, by the way. Fly, be free, weird blue bird!” He said, gesticulating wildly.  
“I came here to ask you to join me,” she said.  
“No,” he said.  
“I am Illyria. My orders ae followed,” She said.  
“Not anymore, sweetheart. Why do you want me? Can ya answer that?” He said.  
“Oz believes that I am Winnifred Burkle. You can act as my confidant.” She said.  
“Why!?” Lorne exclaimed.  
“I disguised myself as her when I went out, and he found me that way. I had planned on telling him, but he took the news of Cordelia and Wesley and Angel and the Irish one’s death very poorly. It didn’t seem right. That is why you must come with me.” She said.  
Lorne downed another drink and walked over. “Listen, blue raspberry. Wow, that was a stretch. Anyway, I know you’re still getting used to the whole kindness thing, but a key part of it is letting others make their own decisions. And, for my part, I don’t want to fight anymore.”  
Illyria straightened up and turned angry. “Earlier tonight, you asked me why I live like this, but why do you live like this?! You say you are good, and I have believed you, but what have you done for people since that night? You say that being good is letting others make their own decisions? Well, I have saved countless humans, and now they have a whole life of decisions ahead of them! Whereas you, you sit here, night after night, telling tales and singing songs for the coin, and then drowning yourself in your ale! You are not a good person. What have you done that is good?”  
Lorne set down his shot glass, and looked down. “What have I ever done?! You have all of Fred’s memories, dont’cha?! Tell me, what have I ever done to help the crew?!”  
Illyria calmed down. “You read souls. This has proved invaluable. You have connections in the city’s underworld. You can sing at harmful pitches. You brought Cordelia back.”  
“Oh yeah, how did that last one turn out, huh?” Lorne said, sarcastically, picking his shot glass back up, and downing it.  
Illyria’s eyes seemed to betray genuine kindness, before snapping back to their usual cold self. “You aided them when you didn’t have to. That was good.” Illyria sighed. “You are not the same Lorne that you are in Winnifred Burkle’s memories. Are you happy here? I am. I am actually happy. I am happier than I ever was ruling over my people in ancient times. I have sadness, yes, but that sadness makes the happiness greater. The happiness of these lesser creatures is so much better than their sadness. I think you know this. Come with me, Lorne, and you will experience the joy of good once again.”  
“Lesser creatures, huh?” He said, “We need to work on your vocabulary.”  
“That is much more likely to be accomplished if you come with me,” She said.  
“That’s what I was referring to. You need someone to manage this depressing sitcom situation you’ve got yourself into, and I really have nothing better to do.”

________________

Willow stood outside the crater, the center of her former life. It was always a little bittersweet for her. It represented her greatest victory, the awakening of the potentials, but it was also the place where she grew up, just gone. The government had said that it was from a test of nuclear weapons, and that had gotten a ton of people riled up. Still, though, it was better than the truth getting out. She needed to see the crater one more time, so she called the team to meet there. It was a lot farther from Cleveland than she would have thought, but it was closer for Oz and Angel’s team, if he had been able to recruit any of them. She hadn’t really left Andrew and Kennedy’s side since she quit, and had decided to do a long drive rather than a risky long range teleport. She was sure leaving had been the right idea then, but now she was unsure. Had it been rash and stupid? That line of thought was interrupted by the arrival of a large, noisy van. It had been years since she’d seen it, but she still got the comfy, homey feeling looking at it. Oz’s van. The door opened, and Willow rushed toward it, unable to wait any longer before seeing him.  
“Oz!” She screamed, and it certainly was, alongside two others. Her brain decided not to full absorb them yet. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”  
After recovering from the noise, Oz responded in a cool and even voice, “Well, you’re the one who talked to me from a million miles away.” While he appeared calm, it was easy for Willow to tell that he was overjoyed, even after she hadn’t seen him for so long.  
“More like a thousand,” she said nonchalantly.  
“Still. Impressive. I didn’t know you could do that.” Oz said.  
“Well, you’ve missed a lot. I’m still gay, by the way. You gonna go wolf on me?” She said.  
“Not this time. I got better at it. Watch.” Oz said, shifting in and out of a half-wolf form.  
“Neat! And you two…Goddess!” She exclaimed after seeing Lorne and ‘Fred’, “Makeover much?”  
“Hi, Willow,” Illyria said, sizing Willow up, covertly.  
“Words can hurt like a fist, Willow.” Lorne said, snarkily. He was wearing the outfit he had used to trail Illyria.  
“Sorry, but you guys do look way different then when I saw you at the Hyperion.” Willow said.  
“Its the lasting trauma.” Lorne said, with a fake smile.  
“Yeah, uh…” Oz said, cutting in. “Angel’s dead. So is Wesley. And Cordelia.”  
“Gunn is missing!” Illyria shouted out.  
“That’s… a whole lot of trauma.” Willow said. “That kind of diminishes the fanfare of our introductions.”  
“They’ve been dead for months. If you’d called, maybe it wouldn’t be news to you.” Lorne said.  
“Maybe some introductions are in order?” Kennedy asked, stepping out of Willow’s car, “Sorry, but I’m not getting the emotional resonance here. I’ve never met any of these people, or anyone you were talking about.”  
“I have!” Andrew said from Willow’s car. “I’m really sad now! And what about Spi-” Before he could finnish, Lorne shot him a murderous glare, leaving him to change course, “ngle the turtle?”  
“That’s a weird name for a turtle,” Willow said.  
“I don’t-” Illyria started, before Lorne shushed her.  
“Oh, he’s fine. Staying with an old friend.” Lorne said.  
“Okay… Kennedy, you’ve heard about Oz, so this is Lorne. He’s an empath demon, and a pacifist, so you don’t have to worry about slaying him.” Willow said.  
“I’m all in favor of other people fighting, though. I just don’t want to bruise my own skin.” He quipped again, but his face revealed a deeper sadness.  
“And this is Fred. She’s a brilliant scientist, and a sweetheart. This didn’t used to be her fashion style.” Willow said.  
“It has been a rough year.” Illyria said.  
“Well,” Kennedy said, “I don’t mind this look.”  
“So,” Oz said, “where’s the cool ride that we’re going to road trip in?”  
“There,” Willow said, smirking.  
“‘Mind telling us how we’re all gonna fit in that van? I bet a hundred bucks its magic.” Lorne did jazzhands as he said that.  
Oz looked around, and said, “Anyone want to challenge that?”

“That’s it?” Said Lorne. After the long, complicated incantation Willow had performed, he had expected something a lot more glamorous than, well, nothing.  
Andrew stepped in front of him, and said, “Oh, you sweet, beautiful demon. You are in for quite the large surprise. That spell was as complex and powerful as the one that awakened all of the potential vampire slayers.”  
Willow looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, I wouldn’t go too far, but yes, that was a powerful spell, and I’ll probably be winded for a while.”  
Illyria looked over at Willow. “So, what did it do?” She was smiley and giddy, reminding Lorne how good she was at pretending to be Fred.  
Willow explained, “Well, the spell created a sorta ‘home base’ for us, by way of pocket dimension. I had previously stocked that pocket dimension with everything that we could need, and I gave each of you a room, as well as a few supply places and common rooms. Who knew how easy it was to magically get cable? However, normally pocket dimensions just float through the dimensions aimlessly, which can attract all sorts of unwanted passengers, boogeymen and such. So, I anchored it to that doorway. Everything should be good, and we can go in.”  
“Did anyone get any of that?” Lorne chimed in.  
“Oh yeah,” Oz said, “She did the whosiewhats, and now the thingamajig is in the whatchamacallit.”  
Kennedy chuckled under her breath, “Willowese is a very complex language. Luckily, I’m fluent.” As she said this, she twirled Willow’s hair in her hand. “Basically, we’ve got a cool home base in Oz’s van, and we can teleport all over the world with it.”  
Willow looked concerned, and shooed Kennedy’s hand away from her head. “Actually, teleportation is a big no-no with anchored pocket dimensions. That could cause both dimensions to collapse into each other.”  
Illyria nodded in understanding, and Willow shot her a strange glance. She noticed this, and said, “Oh, you know, if you’re trapped in an alternate dimension for five years, you’re probably going to learn a lot about alternate dimensions when you get back. Did you know that there’s a dimension that is entirely made of shrimp?”  
Lorne chuckled to himself, and said, “Let’s pretend any of that made sense, and move on to look at the cool van that’s bigger on the inside than the outside.”  
Willow looked over to him, and said, “Oh, no, the shrimp dimension is real. I’ve been there. Everything is shrimps. Even the atoms in the shrimp dimension are shrimps. Don’t ask me how that works.”  
“I’m with the green guy. I want to see the cool magic van.” Oz said as he opened the door.

Among her friends, Willow isn’t really known for her sense of style. When she was addicted to magic, she used it, along with her girlfriend’s advice, to coordinate better. After she quit petty magic, and after Tara died, she remembered some of the advice, but she only really knows how to apply it to fashion, and not interior decoration. This, combined with access to unlimited resources, created a pocket dimension house that was distinctly Willow. She tried to apply some of what she learned from fashion to the place, but it didn’t turn out well. She took the idea that contrast is key, and went from there. The vast majority of rooms, outside of any appliances or books, are entirely in contrasting color palettes. Unfortunately, she likes bright colors. The first room, a seeming living room, with books and a television, is entirely in greens and reds. Any training rooms are in blue and orange, study rooms or libraries are yellow and purple, and bedrooms are in black and white. And these aren’t just normal colors. These are the platonic ideals of the colors. The green is completely green. The red is utterly red. There is nothing to compare the colors to, because nothing has ever come close to the purity of these colors. They weren’t meant to be seen by mortals.

` “I don’t think this was meant to be seen by mortals.” Said Andrew, after letting out a brief screech of fear.  
A sound came from Illyria, but she cut it off before it could be recognized as a word.  
Oz walked out into the room. “You know, when I first got that call and talked to Willow, I thought that she had really changed. Y’know, matured. But admitting when you are wrong is the sign of a great man.”  
Willow stormed up to him, which was hard, given that she was standing somewhat close to him already. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Oz looked slightly frightened, but still had his steely composure. “I’m just saying that its good to know you aren’t all-powerful in all fields.”  
Willow put on her pouty face. “I thought it looked good.”  
The distinctive tones of Lorne shouted, “How?! Are you color blind?”  
Kennedy walked up to him. “Hey, pal! No one criticizes my girlfriend without my say so! … Which you can have.”  
Willow glanced back at her with puppy dog eyes.  
Kennedy walked over to Willow and put her arm around her shoulder. “No offense babe, but you kinda screwed the pooch on this one.”  
“Okay.” She said, before whispering a few words in Latin. The color cooled down and became shades that are reconcilable with our perception of reality.  
“Well, make yourselves comfortable. The TV will play anything you tell it to, as long as another mortal being has watched it. The fiction library down the hall is the same way. I’ll lead you to your beds when you want to sleep. The bathroom is everywhere.” She said, all nonchalantly.  
“I… what?” Lorne was the only one able to get anything out. Everyone else just stood and stared.

“Sorry, I’ve had more talks with books than people lately. Basically, any door can lead to the bathroom. I tried to do this with the other rooms, but it was too complicated. On the upside, that meant that I could create an infinite number of bathrooms. Cool, huh?” Willow said.  
“Are there video games?” Illyria asked.  
“Oh, yeah. They’re in another room, though.” Willow said.  
“Ooh, nice, a gamer girl,” Andrew said, “What’s your favorite game?”  
Illyria turned around, and said to him, “You are small and weak,”  
Andrew paused, looking at his feet, and said, “I haven’t heard of that one…”  
Willow saw that she was quickly losing control of the situation, and said, “Anyway, we can’t stick here for long. Andrew’s already found a demon for us to slay.”  
“Excellent, I can-” Illyria said, excited about the prospect of violence, before remembering herself “help, however I need to.”  
“Well,” Willow said, “Andrew and I should go set up the conference room, just wait here a bit.”  
“Do we need a meeting room? Couldn’t we just, y’know, have a meeting?” Lorne asked.  
Andrew pouted.  
“Actually, I learned in psych class that having a specific place for a certain activity helps get your brain in mode for that activity. So, we’ll go set up.”

Everyone gathered into the room after a few minutes. Andrew had set up a graph, anda whiteboard, and was standing in front of them with a modicum of authority.  
“Why do I have to be here?” Lorne said.  
“Excuse me?” Willow said.  
“I mean, I’m not exactly fighting guy. Do you want me to sing at it? Do you want it to sing to me, so I can read its fortune?” Lorne said.  
“I want you to know about it, in case it-” Willow said, cut off by Andrew.  
“Don’t spoil the meeting, Wil.” Andrew said, raising his hand to her.  
“What?” Willow asked incredulously.  
“Ahem.” Andrew actually pronounced Ahem. “Ladies and gentlemen. The demon you will be facing is of no common ilk. It is quite powerful. And only grows stronger the more you throw at it. Like Kirby, it absorbs your power. As such, I recommend you all be on your guard, which is why I asked that you all attend this strategy meeting. It is an Ignis demon, an elemental of fire. Elementals are born from great displacements of magical energy, like the destruction of a Hellmouth. Most of them have been destroyed, but they are quite nasty, so this one has survived.. As the Ignis demon is an elemental, it will search out magical energy where it can find it. While the impulse may be to subdue it with water, that will simply make it steam. The better strategy would be to fight it with wind. Make sure it is in the path of the wind at all times. In non-windy conditions, it is hot to the touch, so be warned. It will likely be drawn to this van, and, as such, our attack team should-”  
Willow interrupted Andrew. “You can take your leave now. I’ll do the strategy.”  
“I thought I was the strategy guy. Y’know, the wise mentor type. Like Obi Wan. Or Giles.” Andrew said, whispering.  
“You are not in any way like Giles,” Willow whispered back.  
“Well, you put me in charge of the mission briefings.”  
“No, I did not. You are the demon guy. You were reading my strategy.”  
“Well, I thought it was a good one.”  
“You are insufferable. Give me that paper.”  
“Okay, fine. Your loss.”  
Willow cleared her throat and was much better at it than Andrew. “As was previously stated, our attack group, made up of myself, Oz, and Kennedy, will wait outside for the demon. I know you three,” She said this pointing at Illyria, Lorne, and Andrew, “aren’t the greatest fighters, but stay on guard nonetheless. It may seek out the van, rather than me.” She paused. “Okay, people, let’s get to work. Well, people who will be working. For those who won’t, let’s get to rest.”

“Andrew? What do you want?” Lorne asked. In his opinion, the living room was rather stylish, with strong blues and greens, and a smattering of white. Illyria didn’t think so, but what did she know? She could have chosen any outfit in order to reinvent herself as Fred, but no. She just chose a modernization of the suit that came in her coffin. Still, she had yet to refer to anyone as a lesser being, which he thought was a good sign.  
“Well,” Andrew said, “I just wanted you to, uh, know that it was okay you didn’t want to show up for the briefing. I actually thought it was pretty cool the way you stood up to Willow. She was being kind of a B-word, if you know what I mean. I mean, what are the chances that an ignis demon would pass over the most powerful witch in the world just to have a meal of this crappy v-”  
Andrew was interrupted when Illyria walked in.  
“Hello, Lorne. Hello, Andrew.”  
“Where are you going? The video game room? This place is so cool.” Andrew was beaming.  
Illyria smiled to match him. She didn’t want to endanger her cover like she had before the meeting. “Oh, just the library.”  
“Oh, yeah,” Andrew said, his face lighting up. “I bet there are a ton of cool books that I can read there that I never had the chance to before. I asked Willow, and she said that technically, because they don’t have any inherent magic, Demonology books don’t go in the magic library. But I’m also excited for all of the comic books. I could get so much rare stuff.”  
“I’m going to the magic library.” She said, and walked off.  
Andrew looked confused. “Lorne, you’re close to her,” Andrew said with confusion. “Why’s she going there?”  
“Oh, just, y’ know, to check stuff out,” Lorne said with a fake joviality.

“So this is what purgatory feels like.” Said Oz.  
“Weren’t you a monk for, like, five years?” Said Kennedy.  
“Two years. And that place was nice to look at. This place isn’t. Also, no wind. So that plan’s a bust.”  
In the middle of the desert, where they were, it certainly was quite barren. It was flat everywhere you looked. No scenic dunes, not even many cactuses, just stale air.  
“Hey.” Oz addressed Kennedy. “Why are we called ‘the attack team’? Isn’t what we’re doing a little bit defensy for an attack team?”  
“We’ll be attacking most of the time. It’s just, for now, since it's our best strategy, we’ll be defending.” Kennedy said, taking a helpful, if slightly condescending tone.  
“No, I get that, but if we do both, shouldn’t we be just ‘The Team’?”  
“I’ll talk to Will about it.”  
“Thanks. You’re good for Willow, right?” Oz said,  
“That’s rather blunt.”  
“Yeah. Way different from how I usually talk. You seem nice and supportive.”  
“Thanks?”  
“I think its implied that if you hurt her I will tear you limb from limb,”  
“I’d like to see you try. Also, she can take care of herself. Do you know what happened when Tara died? She’d tear me limb from limb faster than you could,” Kennedy said, smirking.  
Willow called from off far, while making a spell to amplify the magical energy in the area, “Hey, Oz, shouldn’t you be doing something sniffy?”  
“I can’t really smell fire.” He said sardonically, before taking a different tone. “But I can smell burning sand. Especially if a lot of it is burning, in a line moving toward us very quickly.”  
“Where is it?” Willow was next to Oz in seconds.  
“By my estimation, it is here right now as I am finishing this sentence.”  
Oz was correct, and the Ignis demon had arrived. It stood imposingly tall, at least twice that of any member of the team. Its skin shifted as you looked at it, and its heat made the air around it shimmer. Merely standing close to it, and the team felt the heat radiating from it.  
Kennedy dove for it with one of her swords, feeling on fire as she did so. The willpower it took for her to get close to it took a significant amount out of the blow. While her blow did land, and seemed to affect the beast, her sword was melted with the blow, and it reached out to bat her away. Her flesh singed when it touched her, and she was knocked away. She tried to get up, but couldn’t.  
“Dammit, Kennedy!” Willow said, preparing a spell. “Aureo!” She shouted, producing a circle of wind around the beast. It rushed in, creating a cloud of smoke. Willow then shouted, “Oz, go in on it. It should be safe to touch now.”  
Oz rushed in and attacked it, but the cloud of smoke was so deep that he could barely penetrate it. As the adrenaline of the hunt hit him, his features became wolf-like, and his hands became claws. While he couldn’t find any direct surface to hit, the cloud of smoke was deep and thick, and rushed away after he hit. It smelled alive. It blew away and rushed towards Willow.  
“It’s alright.” She said. “These things are mindless. They just search for most magical power closest to them. I’ve been saving this one just for him. Aureo Kallus!” As she said this, she let out a massive blast of shimmering, frozen wind, becoming a multicolored tornado. However, the creature tumbled past it, even missing Willow.  
“Oh, crap,” she said under her breath, “it’s going for the van.”

“Hey, you must have some pretty cool stories from when you were with Angel, right?” Andrew said to Lorne. While they were both sitting on separate couches, he seemed to always be inching closer to Lorne. “Like, when you swooped in, and dashingly saved everyone.”  
“Kid, I never swooped or saved anyone. Or dashed, for that matter.” Lorne was trying to be nice to Andrew, but the kid was definitely a bit annoying.  
Andrew opened his mouth to try and say something, but as he did, the door burst open, and out came the Ignis demon, now having regained some of its flame. It roared, but didn’t seem to notice Andrew and Lorne. It moved straight on into the hallway.  
Andrew screamed, and then said, “Lorne! Do something!”  
“Why do you think I could do something?! If I could, I’d have been out there with the people who were supposed to do something! You’re the demon expert, what is it doing?!”  
“Well, elementals search for the greatest concentration of magical energy in an area, so, my guess would be the library. We have to save Fred!”  
Lorne faltered. “Well, I’m sure she can take care of herself.”  
“Not against an Ignis demon. Let’s go help!”  
Just then, Willow burst through the door.  
“Where is it?!” She shouted, nervously.  
“Down at the library, with Fred!” Andrew shouted.  
“Oh no… I killed her.” Willow said, sinking down from where she was floating in the air.  
“She might not be dead yet! Save her!”  
“Okay,” Willow said gravely, speeding on.

“No, this isn’t it.” Illyria said, as she threw another book off of the shelf. As the book fell, the demon entered.  
“Ah. I was worried about this. So, I’m the most magical thing in this van. Good for the self esteem,” She said, still looking in the library. “Well, at least I found what I was looking for.”  
The Ignis demon stood menacingly, as if it were absorbing the energy of the room as it did. Illyria walked toward it. Her face was stony as she struck it with full force. Its flame blew away from the impact, pushing the creature back.  
She sighed, disappointed, and said, “I suppose I still have to get used to the strength of this form.”  
The beast rushed forward, clawing at Illyria with a hand of flame. With her left still clutching her book, she caught the massive hand with her own, and threw it back. As it rushed forward once again, its limited sentience incabable of comprehending another method of attack, Illyria dodged out of its way. She pushed in on it with a flurry of blows, each with the full force of her elder power. When she finished, the room was engulfed in flame. As she was regaining her composure, Willow, Andrew, and Lorne came in on her. Her demeanor shifted, and she said, “Willow? Oh my god. That thing, it...”  
“It’s okay,” Willow responded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Although I see my library isn’t.”  
“The demon didn’t seem to be attacking me. I think it wanted the library. I didn’t know what to do. I took a few books and threw them at it. That seemed to make it expand, and then it touched more books. Eventually, it just exploded…”  
“It’s fine,” Willow said comfortingly. “You did great. Did you save any books?”  
Illyria shook her head. “Sorry. It was the heat of the moment.”  
Willow sighed, and said, “I suppose I couldn’t exactly expect you to. At least you’re alive.”  
Illyria walked off, and after no one could see, she held her book.  
After seeing the scene unfold, Lorne looked at Andrew. “Hey, I’m gonna… go check on her.”  
Andrew looked at him. “Wait-”  
“Sorry,” Lorne said, walking off, “I’m emotion guy.”  
Andrew looked down, and said, “That’s not how Ignis demons work.”

Illyria’s bedroom was designed to be Fred’s dream room. It was large and spacious, with a large desk, and a door that leads right into the non-magical, non-crispy, library. The only thing that Illyria had done to make it more fitting for her was make it blue. Illyria was laying down on the very soft, cushy bed, and Lorne was across from her, on a chair.  
“I had never realized how soft beds were,” Illyria said, absentmindedly.  
“Not all beds, blueberry. You’ve had demon luxury, but now you have human luxury. I think you’ll prefer their’s to your own.” Lorne said, more easy around her than he ever had been before.  
“This is what a ruler would have?” She asked, earnestly.  
“Yes. I think its king sized, technically.” Lorne said, comfortingly. “So, how are you feeling? Did you want to kill anyone today?”  
“No.” She said, suprised.  
“Really? Not even Andrew?”  
“No. He reminds me of the Garaki demons. They were my servants. I used to order them to eat and digest their siblings for sport.”  
Lorne gulped, and said, “Okay. Different topic. What do you think of Willow? She’s the one who kind of put all this together.”  
“She is not yet a skilled leader,” Illyria said, “but she is quite smart, and quite powerful. I do not have many memories of her, and yet she cares very deeply for Fred. I am given to understand that humans think of that ability to be connected makes for a good leader.”  
“You were very quiet, out there. Unusually so,” Lorne said  
“I feel strange around her,” Illyria said.  
“Someone’s got a crush. Creepy.” Lorne said.  
At that moment, a knocking was heard at the door. Lorne got up to answer it.  
“What are you doing?” Illyria said.  
“Answering the door, so no one suspects anything. We’re friends. Its fine that were in here together.” Lorne said, in a paternal manner.  
“Yes, I suppose that is fair.” She said, sighing, as Lorne opened the door.  
“Lorne, get back!” Andrew shouted, pushing through Lorne. “You thought you could decieve me, ‘Winnifred’? Well, I have discovered your ruse!” Holding a cross out towards Illyria, he struck a pose that he thought looked cool. “You are not a quirky scientist, but a fell demon!”  
Illyria got up, and, within seconds, pinned Andrew to the wall.  
“Hck!” Said Andrew.  
“Wait,” Lorne shouted. “Don’t kill him, Illyria. You wanted me to teach you how to be good, right? Pick up where Wesley left off? Well, general morality rule, try not to kill people.” He said, anxiously.  
“Illyria?!” Andrew said, through fading breath.  
“Let go.” Lorne said.  
Illyria let go of Andrew, but didn’t quite let go of her menace. “You are not being an adequate servant.”  
Andrew had utter terror in his eyes. “That’s Illyria?!”  
Illyria drew back, and smiled. “He seems to know of me.”  
Lorne went over to Andrew. “Hey, look, okay, despite that fiasco, I want you to trust that Illyria won't hurt you. She’s one of the good guys, or, at least,” he says as he glances a condescending look towards Illyria, “is trying to be one.”  
“But that thing is Illyria! God-King of the Primordium! Shaper of Things! Oh god, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I need to get out. Oh, that’s what that prophecy meant.” Andrew said, panicked, spitting out random things.  
“He is rambling.” Illyria said.  
Lorne leaned into Andrew. “Listen, whatever ideas you got about Illyria from reading your demon books, ditch ‘em. She is a force for good.”  
Andrew’s panic didn’t seem to subside. “You’re on her side? How can you be on her side?”  
Lorne turned back around, and sighed. “Why the hell did you do that, Illyria?” He said.  
Illyria looked confused. “He found me out. I have to kill him, or else they’ll all know, and I’ll have to kill them all.”  
Lorne turned away from Andrew. “Or we could convince him not to tell them.” He turned back to Andrew. “You didn’t tell them, right?”  
Andrew whimpered, “No.”  
Illyria walked towards Lorne. “He is a demonologist. He knows of me. Demon Lords aren’t supposed to be able to change.”  
Lorne sighed. “Well, then, tell him.”  
“I know humans. When they are already set in a belief, nothing can change it.” Illyria said.  
Andrew got up, and, panting, spoke. “I won’t tell anyone. Just don’t hurt me.”  
Illyria smirked, and said, “Well, it seems my solution was superior after all.”

Willow’s room was right next to the magic library, and so, that side of it was entirely scorched down. Luckily for her, her bed was on the other side, as were her materials for more advanced spells. She had just taken down a pitcher of red sand, and was mumbling to herself.  
“Well, lets try this.” She began pouring the sand into three neat circles, with the ease of one who’s movement had been practiced many times before.  
“I am lost in my life. I search for guidance. I am lost in my life. I look on into the mirror.” As she said this she sat down into one of the circles. As she sat down, two figures appeared in the others, both similar to Willow. One had bulging veins, pitch-black eyes, and dark robes. The other was pale, which was accentuated by her white hair, robes, and pupils.  
“So,” Dark Willow said, “you burned down the library. Not the best start to this whole ‘team thing’.”  
“Hey!” Light Willow said, turning her head toward Dark Willow. “She beat the bad guy, no one died, I think that’s a good start. Also, point of order, she wasn’t the one who burned down the library. And you were the one who suggested this whole thing.”  
Dark Willow ignored her. “So, what do you want? Another pep talk, or do you need actual guidance?”  
“It’s just,” Willow said, obviously stressed, “This was my first day. I burned my magic library down with magical fire, so I can’t replace them, the energy from it broke the monster finder, and I probably scarred one of my team members for life. Oh, yeah, I also literally scarred my girlfriend.”  
Light Willow smiled. “Look at it this way. When you were with Buffy, how many days were like this? Your gut might tell you none, but really think about it. None of them were perfect. A lot of them were catastrophic. You’re fighting demons. Things won’t always go well, but is what makes a team a team. But, yeah, that library thing wasn’t the best.”


End file.
